Chapter 64.3: Trading Deadline Woes

All right, I’m starting to get annoyed with Omar. I realize he wasn’t going to be able to block the Braves from obtaining Mark Teixeira from the Rangers when they were willing to trade away budding star Jarrod Saltalamacchia and a highly touted minor leaguer or two, but to let the Braves get Octavio Dotel for Kyle Davies is reprehensible!

Surely the Mets had somebody more valuable than Davies that the Royals would have liked in order to bring Dotel back to where he began his major league career. At least Davies won’t be around to kick the Mets around anymore –- just about the only team that Davies could beat consistently. If the Mets don't improve their pitching -- especially their tired bullpen -- they could get caught by the Braves or possibly the streaky Phillies.

I'm pleased with the Mets' acquisition of Luis Castillo, though I believe he's too expensive for what he contributes -- it's still better than what they would have gotten from Ruben Gotay over the next two-plus months. But will Castillo be enough?

Chapter 64.25: Life and Chaos and the Fun They Both Create

The other day, in the random way that makes the Web so interesting, I discovered a speech by an advertising executive. In his somewhat crude way, he spoke about the appeal of chaos and how it leads to creativity. "Chaos is the only thing that honestly wants you to grow," wrote Dan Wieden (who I don't know anything about, other than this particular speech). Personally, I don't think "chaos" has any thought in the matter at all, but I've been in the publishing field long enough to know not to expect literal truth or honesty from an ad man, for whom the "perception of reality" is what matters. Yet, the statement is intriguing, nonetheless. Growth can come from chaos. Leaders emerge from chaos, just as victims are left for dead from chaos.

I don't agree with everything the man said. For instance, he states that the priorities of his agencies: the work, the client/agency relationship, yourself. My work is important to me; I believe that the stories I am writing and will write will last and help other people in ways I'll never know. But even if my work could touch and bring joy to millions of people, if I were to fail my wife or my family, I'd have a tough time looking at myself in the mirror. Still, I know where this guy's coming from; my work is part of myself. I can see it no other way.

While reading the speech, I was reminded of one of John Lennon's last songs, in which he sang "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans." My wife and I are busy making plans for the future -- things I won't go into on a Web site that gets visitors from all over the world (thanks, Google Analytics, for showing the reach of my random thoughts!). And Life is happening. To achieve what we hope to achieve, we'll have to work even harder than we already are working.

So as the second half of 2007 unfolds, I raise my coffee cup to chaos. Right back at-cha, dude.

Chapter 64.2: I'll Show You Mine...

Tonight a friend and I went to a coffee house and shared our novels in progress. This is the first time I've shared my book with anyone outside my immediate family, and it helped reaffirm that my greatly revised beginning is far better than how my novel had originally begun. In fact, in discussing our books further after we shared about 15 pages, I decided to expose my original opening, which I had on my computer. He plodded through the breakfast scene -- understanding a couple references that are otherwise simply images in what I have now (though images with a purpose, of course) -- and soon discovered that I had been long on detail and short on story or pace.

He and I will meet again to do this exercise, and we both expect to present improved versions of our stories (my friend has a tawdry, intimate relationship with adverbs), and it may even expand by two or three other writers. But I came away from this meeting with renewed faith in my story and myself. For other writers out there, I recommend sharing your work when you're ready. And be prepared for honest, sometimes sharp critiques. What doesn't kill you makes you a better writer.

Chapter 64.1: The PATH Most Taken

Riding on the PATH train this morning, while ensconced in the last forty pages of the slow but enjoyable anthology of Graham Greene works I've been reading for the past few weeks, I was jolted back to reality by the grinding and grating of the train. It slowed and stopped. Nothing to worry about -- happens from time to time. Then it began again, only this time with a nasty grinding sound like I've heard when my car is about ready to die. And on toward Christopher Street. Reading during the several minutes of windy, wavy travel is like resting with my thoughts on a hammock in a soft breeze: quickly forgotten until the next time you experience it. After people disembarked at Christopher Street, the train urged from the station once again. It barked and squealed in frustration before finally it moved. At Ninth Street, the movement was the same at first. Then, quite suddenly, the train jumped with a terrible crunching sound. Passengers looked at each other as if to say "What the fuck was that?" A man beside me was reading his book. Without looking up, he said, "That's not a good sound."

In my mind, I joked. "We finally shook off that brake we didn't need. Now we can really get moving!"

At 14th Street, we arrived -- brakes intact -- and I noticed far more people than usual disembarking with me. Seems they'd had enough too.